The Office Secret
by Predec2
Summary: B/J One-fic for Christmas. Post Ep. 309 AU. Justin's relationship to Brian is being kept private from his other employees. Will it remain that way when Christmas comes? Somebody's going to get jealous...


_I don't remember if the boys reunited before Christmas time, so I hope you don't mind if the timing's off. I just couldn't let Christmas go by, though, without a little one-fic. Hope you enjoy it!_

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DISCLAIMER: QAF and its characters are the sole property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Brian slipped out of the most wondrous place on Earth as his dick softened and he tied off the condom. Throwing it away in the bathroom garbage can nearby, he slowly slid the back of his hand down the curve in Justin's sweaty back as he heard an almost imperceptible sigh. "What?"

"Nothing."

Brian turned his lover around by the arms to face him. "Justin...I know what that sound means. Tell me what's on your mind." He placed the fingers of his right hand under his lover's chin to force him to meet his gaze as Justin leaned back against the bathroom vanity.

Justin stared into Brian's face, struggling to find the right words; he and Brian had just recently reunited, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause any friction between them. But he also knew he was done being secretive about anything. He pulled his pants back up and zipped them closed before grabbing his shirt lying in a heap on top of the vanity. "I love being able to work with you here," he tentatively began as he shrugged into his shirt and began to button his cuffs. "And the sex is a definite perk..." he admitted with a wistful smile.

Brian raised an eyebrow, however; reading right through those statements. "But..." he prodded gently.

Justin disentangled himself from Brian's embrace as he walked over to the leather sofa situated against the far wall of the private bathroom and sat down on one end. He took a deep breath and let it out. "But sometimes I feel like...Like your dirty little secret at the office."

"I thought you _liked_ being dirty," Brian teased, but he didn't receive the response he was hoping for; all he got in reaction to his statement was a slight rolling of the eyes, which appeared distinctly troubled. Walking over to the couch, he sat down next to Justin as he reached for his hand. "Justin, we've discussed this before. I thought we had both agreed it was best that our personal lives remain private here. Didn't we?"

Justin swallowed as he nodded in acknowledgment. "I know." He turned to look over at Brian as he gazed down at their clasped hands lying on the couch between them. "But do you know how hard it is to work with you during the day and not be able to touch you or speak to you the way I want to? To force myself not to look at you? Do you know some of the guys spend their lunch hour taking bets on which employee you're fucking? Do you know how hard it is for me not to say something to them when they talk like that? I hate this sneaking around, Brian!"

Brian sighed. "Justin, it's not like we don't see each other during the day - and you're practically over at the loft every night, too. It's important that I keep my private life private, and separate from work." His heart lurched, however, at the mournful look in his lover's eyes. "And before you bring up the fact that I've been known to fuck clients - and even employees, although God knows I've learned my lesson there - you know you're a lot _more_ than that." He pushed his tongue into his cheek, suddenly feeling vulnerable at exposing his emotions. But it was important that Justin know the difference. "If everyone knows that you're my..." he struggled to come up with the right word; _damn it, he hated titles!_ - "my _boyfriend_, then they would treat you differently. They wouldn't be honest with you about your work and they would be walking on eggshells around you for fear it would get back to me. You already know you do kick-ass work and can run rings around anyone else in the art department." It was true, too; even though Justin was a lot less experienced in advertising graphics, and a lot younger that most of his other employees, he was still by far the most creative and talented artist under his employ. "They would be jealous of you, and think that I give you preferential treatment because of our relationship. I'm sure you wouldn't want that." That couldn't be further from the truth, though; if anything, Brian was even _harder_ on Justin than any of his other employees. He was secretly proud, though, that his lover could keep up with the best of them, and challenge them - and him - in every way.

Justin savored Brian's hand in his as he shook his head, realizing Brian was right. They _would_ treat him differently, and he didn't want that. "No, I wouldn't," he whispered. He slid his hand out of his lover's as he stood up. He took a deep breath. "I'd better get back to my desk before everybody wonders why I'm taking so long to deliver those proofs to you."

Brian stood up to grab Justin by the wrist before he could leave. "Well, since you're already late..." He tugged Justin against his body to give him a brief but passionate kiss on the lips before pulling back to drink in the expressive, blue eyes. "I may need someone to go and get me a sandwich later," he told him, his voice low and sultry. "I think it'll turn out to be a working lunch, and Cynthia's going to be out of the office until later this afternoon. You think there's an intern that might be talked into going and getting it for me? I really need to look over those sketches you brought me earlier, too, for the Hanson campaign."

Justin nodded, pleased that Brian wanted to spend time with him at lunch, but again, feeling like he had to tiptoe around everyone else. "Okay," he told him as he quietly turned to go. Brian watched him thoughtfully as he opened the door and shut it behind him before he reached for his own pants and began getting dressed himself.

* * *

_December 21 - 6:00 p.m._

Brian tried to pointedly ignore the Christmas music filtering in through the hallway over the intercom, but try as he might, he still kept hearing Nat King Cole, Kenny G, and Maria Carey, as well as a slew of other artists singing about white Christmases, roaring fires, and Auld Lang Syne. He groaned; the office Christmas party was tonight, and as the owner he had to attend. Not only would his employees be expecting it, but as was his usual custom, he also had invited several dozen of his larger, more affluent clients to come. Normally, he had an extremely large turnout; everyone knew that when Brian Kinney threw a Christmas party, he spared no expense when it came to the highest quality booze and expensive appetizers and meals. Between that and the professional decorator he always had to hire, it set him back a fucking mint, but the increased business he received later in the year, along with the (at least temporarily) happy employees who got their annual bonuses at the same time more than made up for the outrageous expense.

He had purposely avoided going anywhere near the spacious banquet/meeting room that had been constructed out of half of the former bathhouse and was located at the rear of the building; normally it was used to present seminars or to pitch advertising campaigns to larger audiences, but during this time of the year Cynthia - always such a shopping queen and a lover of all things Christmas - typically took it over to lead the rest of her elves on a holiday decorating binge. He knew he could no longer hide from it, however; the first guests would be arriving within the hour.

Sighing in resignation, he closed his laptop and wandered into his private bathroom to turn on the shower head, wondering why Justin had made himself so scarce this past week. Oh, he had been accessible enough during the day whenever Brian needed a 'carryout' brought into his office, or when he wanted a quickie with his partner to help temporarily assuage his lust. But after work hours Justin had been practically nonexistent. When he had first asked him about it earlier in the week, Justin had merely told him he had a large art project that needed completing and he wouldn't be around the loft much until he had finished it. That had proven to be an understatement; he hadn't been by the loft in days, and Brian was horny as hell for the attention - and talents - that only a certain beautiful blond could provide for him. Yes, he could get his rocks off at Babylon, Woody's or even the dingy bathroom of the diner if he needed to. But it just wasn't the same as having Justin in his bed. Something deep inside told him the reason why - something about the feelings he hid so well - but for now he refused to dwell on them.

Shedding his clothes and testing the water temperature first, he stepped into the glass shower stall and reached for his expensive, French milled soap, the rainforest shower head set to pulsating to try and ease some of his stiff muscles. He closed his eyes as the water sluiced down his body, wishing fervently that his favorite shower partner was there with him. He didn't even know if Justin was going to be at the party tonight - he figured if he was he would merely feel uncomfortable in front of so many of his employees and clients. He knew how hard it was for Justin to work with him on a day-to-day basis and not be able to indicate his true position in his life. Didn't he think it was hard for him, too?

Emerging fifteen minutes later, he donned a dark, black Armani suit jacket over a blood-red, silk dress shirt before shrugging into a pair of dark jeans and black boots, choosing to forgo the traditional dress so many others chose to wear during events like these. It was his party; he figured he could dress as he saw fit, and he did not see the need for such pretentiousness. He decided not to wear a matching tie, either, electing instead to leave his shirt unbuttoned slightly. If he HAD to attend these abysmal affairs, the least he could do was make sure that he attended them in comfort.

His grooming completed, he gave himself one last admiring look in the mirror before heading out toward the hall and down to the banquet room. The closer he got to the area, the more Christmas trappings he began to see: elegant, white tulip flower arrangements with pine sprigs posed on top of the water cooler, bead garlands of white with accents of pink, lime green, purple and orange with "Joy" ornaments hanging at strategically-placed locations, and tall, miniature Christmas trees trimmed in the same color scheme at the entrance to the room. A long line of buffet tables were set up in the middle of the nearest hallway for guests to choose their dinner selections, with several covered metal warming pans waiting for the food to arrive from the caterers.

From the open, double doors of the banquet room, Brian could hear Christmas carols being piped over the intercom system; rolling his eyes at the sounds of "Holly, Jolly Christmas" escaping, he walked inside to be greeted by a winter wonderland straight out of House Beautiful: the rows of tables had been elegantly set with china, flower arrangements, and placemats, all in coordinating colors of the same hot pink, orange, lime green, purple, and white theme that had been used out in the hallway. It would have been a color scheme he might never had thought of using in his wildest dreams, but in a weird sort of way it worked - it was both innovative and modern, as well as elegant, and it had transformed the meeting/banquet room into a vision of amazing beauty that would rival any expensive restaurant's holiday decor.

Cynthia glanced over with a smile from her place at the far corner where the wet bar had been set up; she was beautiful with her hair cascading around her shoulders in spirals and wearing a sleeveless, black evening gown.

"Well, look who showed up early for the annual party that he always dreads," she deadpanned as she walked over to him, handing him a glass of Beam. "Here, drink this - I know you'll need it before Myerson shows up."

Brian looked at her aghast before he quickly downed most of the drink in one gulp. "You're shitting me," he told her. "He NEVER comes to these sorts of things."

"Well, he is tonight," she told him as she took the glass from him and finished off the drink. "He wants to meet, in his words, the 'brilliant artist' who created his latest advertising campaign. Said it's the first time anyone has been able to truly envision what he wanted his print ads to look like."

Both Cynthia and Brian knew that Myerson was a constant complainer; no matter how much the art department tweaked his ad prototypes, the man always found something at fault with them. Now that Brian thought about it, though, this was the first campaign he had developed for him where the man hadn't called him up the next day after the pitch to demand that something be changed. He nodded in amazement, proud of the fact that Justin had been the one who had spearheaded his most recent promotional material designs and had proven that there was, indeed, a way to satisfy even the most difficult and obstinate of clients. Obviously it was his partner who Myerson was referring to as the 'brilliant artist.' He certainly couldn't disagree with that. "Well, it must have been the perfect approach for his latest print ads," Brian told her as Cynthia nodded in agreement.

She looked around the room approvingly. "Speaking of which, isn't this room absolutely gorgeous? Justin could be an interior designer any day - or a party planner. I think this is the most beautiful Christmas party setting I've ever seen."

Brian frowned as her words sunk in. "You mean _Justin_ did all this?"

Cynthia peered over at him in surprise. "I thought you knew."

Brian shook his head.

"He's been here after hours every night this week helping to oversee everything so it would be ready in time for the party tonight. He saved you a shitload of money by doing that." She paused, worried that she had let something slip out that she shouldn't have. "I just figured you knew all about it." Cynthia and Ted were the only two employees of Brian's who knew his and Justin's true relationship; they were the _only_ two that Brian trusted enough not to blab it all over the office. It seemed that they weren't the _only_ ones who could keep a secret, however. He gazed around the room, noting the meticulous attention to detail at every turn; how all the colors, even down to the tree trimmings and the gift boxes stacked so carefully nearby, coordinated with everything else in the room so perfectly. How could he have not seen his partner's artistic hand in all of this? He felt at once both proud as hell and also ashamed that he had not figured it out himself.

"It _is_ amazing," he admitted softly as she nodded. "Is Justin here somewhere?"

She shook her head, relieved that apparently Brian wasn't upset. "No, he left about an hour ago to go get ready. He said he might run 'fashionably late,' as he put it. Leave it to an artist to put a creative spin on it."

Brian smiled at that. Justin wasn't always the most conscientious person when it came to getting somewhere on time; the main reason why he got to work on time at all was because Brian normally drove him, but Justin always insisted on getting out a block away from the building and walking the rest of the way. He was obeying the 'no fraternization' rule he had put into place for them religiously - TOO religiously, perhaps, as Brian began to feel disgusted over his insistence that the two of them keep their personal lives totally private. He had never been worried about what anyone thought of him before; why should it matter so much now?

He was about to continue his conversation with his personal assistant further when the first of the guests began to arrive. "I'll go check with the bartender to make sure he's ready to go," she told him as she patted his arm. "You can go play hostess."

He gave her a long-suffering look and stuck his tongue out at her briefly before she laughed softly at his expression and rushed off to make sure the most popular liquor was set up and ready to pour; if anything, the guests coming tonight liked to drink - often and in excess. It was one of the things everyone who attended one of Kinnetik's events expected - nothing but the best and all that they could eat and/or drink.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the party was in full swing; the room was filled with Christmas music, loud voices, laughter, and bullshit - lots and lots of bullshit coming from both Brian's employees, who were doing their best to schmooze their most important clients, and the clients themselves, who all were trying to appear more important than they really were. The liquor had quickly served to loosen up tongues on both sides, however, and the expensive appetizers and live band now playing in the corner were serving to create quite a festive atmosphere.

Brian smiled and nodded at the latest big shot client he was mingling with as he turned and scanned the room, looking for one face in particular. His eyes met Cynthia's as she crooked her head over toward the entrance doors, and it was then that Brian's heart skipped a beat. Justin was standing in the doorway, wearing what could have easily passed for a custom-fitted outfit, because it molded itself across his body so perfectly. He was wearing a maroon-colored, V-necked, lightweight pullover sweater with a crisp, white shirt underneath, gray dress slacks, and a pair of matching, gray suede shoes. It was casual but looked amazing against Justin's pale skin. Under the overhead, recessed lights, his partner's golden hair glowed almost like a halo, even though Brian knew Justin was NO angel, at least in their bedroom.

He smiled as Justin's eyes met his and he beamed one of his trademark smiles back at him, feeling suddenly unworthy of such an honor. He watched as his partner slowly began to head his way, only to be constantly interrupted by other employees greeting him or even some of his best clients. Brian was amazed by just how many of them stopped to extend their hand toward Justin and talk to him; when did they even become aware of who he was? The smiles of delight on their faces, however, made him realize that they were more than just being polite, however. He watched for a few moments, entranced by Justin's grace and ease at mingling with the partygoers, before he was interrupted by another client commanding his attention. When he finally had a chance to look back toward where Justin had last been spotted, he was disappointed to find that he was no longer there and he was now nowhere to be seen.

Figuring it wouldn't be too hard to find him, however, he turned and began to thread his way toward the appetizer tables, quickly finding Justin balancing a plate filled with some jumbo shrimp, cocktail sauce, meatballs, and cheese and crackers in one hand and a drink - probably white wine - in the other. Walking up behind him, Brian reached his hand over Justin's shoulder and snagged one of his tooth picked meatballs to plop it in his mouth.

"Hey!" Justin protested before he turned around and found his partner smirking back at him. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners - _Mr. Kinney_?" he growled in mock protest.

"Actually, no, she didn't," Brian told him, but of course they both already knew that. "But she DID teach me how to identify every brand of liquor known to man."

Justin grinned as he picked up a jumbo shrimp and dunked it in some cocktail sauce before holding it up over the plate and extending it toward his partner. "Shrimp?" he asked innocently.

"I do NOT 'do' _shrimps," _Brian quipped as Justin promptly smiled wickedly before plopping it into his mouth; he used the tip of his tongue to lick some of the sauce from the corner of his mouth before using his napkin as he watched Brian's eyes darken with desire in predictable reaction. _You are SO easy, Kinney_, he thought smugly.

"Too bad," Justin said. "I happen to _like _shrimps, uh, shrimp."

"You could have fooled me," Brian whispered in his ear as Justin shivered slightly at the whisper of hot breath on his skin, a portent of things to come later. "Not unless it's _jumbo_ size."

Justin smirked back at him as Brian opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by one of his largest clients hailing him from a few feet away. Golda Bernstein, a plump, 60ish woman with purple-tinted hair and an ample bosom, owned the largest chain of florists in the entire state, and had provided Brian with business in the million-dollar range ever since she had first signed up with him when he had started working for the Ryder Agency. She had loyally followed him from agency to agency until he had founded Kinnetik, and continued to not only provide him with a lot of business, but also supply his office with fresh flower arrangements on a monthly basis as well. She was overbearing at times, but still meant well.

"_There_ you are!" she gushed as she grabbed Brian's arm, her five strands of colorful beads around her neck rattling as she moved. "I have this marvelous idea for my next television ad!" Justin half-smiled wistfully at Brian as his partner somewhat reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged away toward the bar with a mouthed "Later" in departure. Justin nodded with a sigh; this seemed to be the way his and Brian's relationship progressed - or didn't progress - lately. Still holding his plate and drink, he finally turned and walked over to the closest table and sat down to finish his refreshments.

A few minutes later, he had just finished his last meatball and was working on the next piece of shrimp when he felt a soft tap on his left shoulder. Turning his head, he recognized another Kinnetik employee who worked in the advertising department - an up-and-coming sales executive a few years older than him by the name of Adam Sherman. Adam reminded him in a lot of ways of a younger version of Brian - tall, dark-haired and very confident in his abilities. He was a little more muscular than Brian, however, and had green eyes instead of hazel. He made no bones, though, about his intention to move up quickly in the ranks at Kinnetik; a drive that Justin could understand and even appreciate. He actually admired the guy for his ambition, and felt he was talented enough to one day even achieve the much-coveted title of senior advertising executive. Brian himself had told him that he was impressed with his creativity and sales acumen, and Justin had to admit that he was one of the few advertising executives who treated him with respect. Most of them normally looked at him as some young, college twink, merely there to earn the requisite co-op experience while in school, and either barely tolerated him or at best gave him a cursory acknowledgement when they had to interact with him for artwork.

"Hi, Adam," Justin greeted him with a polite smile. "Having a good time?"

Adam slid into the seat next to Justin with a rueful grin. "Well, let's just say that I'm going through the motions," he replied as Justin nodded with a knowing grin of his own. "Brian always knows how to throw a good party, but there's so many suck ups here that it reminds me more of a vacuum cleaner salesman's convention than a holiday office party." He rubbed his hands over his face wearily.

Justin chuckled. "Yeah, I think I'd have to agree with you there."

Adam nodded as he looked over at him. "By the way, I loved the artwork you came up with for the Benson Sportswear print ad. That was ingenious."

Justin flushed over the unexpected praise. "Thanks," he murmured. "I'm glad it worked for your campaign."

Adam nodded, noticing the place setting next to Justin looked untouched. "You here alone tonight? You could have brought someone, you know."

"I know," Justin replied softly, wondering what the best way was to answer that question. He certainly couldn't say that his partner already worked here, much less that it was Brian; that would open up all sorts of questions that he wasn't prepared to answer. "I...I just decided to come by myself. I'm not all that comfortable at these sorts of things," he admitted. It still bothered him somewhat to be in large crowds, whether he knew most of them or not.

"No?"

Justin shook his head. "It's a long story," he said in dismissal, not comfortable with elaborating on what had happened at the prom. "But I still felt like I needed to be here anyway - for Bri, uh...Mr. Kinney's sake."

A slow, saxophone version of "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" began to be played by the band as Adam scooted back from his chair and stood next to Justin's seat. "Well, we might as well make the best of it, then, hadn't we?" he asked as Justin peered up at him and raised his eyebrows in question.

Adam smiled; if anything he prided himself on his intuition and perception, and something told him he was spot on when it came to his co-worker; at least he hoped so. "Dance with me?" he asked. He had been fascinated with Justin since the moment he had laid eyes on him that first day he had started. The blond's light-colored skin, full lips, perfectly-shaped face, sky-blue eyes, and strong jawline were absolutely captivating, and he had found himself deeply attracted to him from Day One. During their conversations at lunch or while working together on a campaign, he had asked Justin polite questions about his personal life away from work, but he had never heard him say anything about a partner or steady boyfriend. Tonight was his chance to find out for sure.

Justin started in surprise; that was the last thing he had been expecting. He couldn't very well dance with this man - could he? It wasn't that he was ashamed or afraid to be seen dancing with another man, but he was involved with Brian - as in the man's _boss_. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone that, though. And truth be told, he was finding it just a little boring sitting around while all the advertising people hobnobbed with their clients. He knew, too, that it was important he put in at least a token appearance before he left, and at least that would help pass the time. Would it hurt for him to have a little, harmless fun in the meantime? He loved to dance.

Glancing over to see Brian deeply ensconced in some conversation with that brassy florist woman (he had forgotten her name - he only remembered it was Jewish or something), he found himself nodding in response. "Okay," he softly agreed as he wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin and, placing it next to his plate, pushed back from the seat and followed Adam over to the portable dance floor.

* * *

"I love the white tulips you used to decorate with tonight!" Golda exclaimed as Brian nodded, only half listening to her. "But I don't understand why you didn't use one of MY shops," she pouted as she continued to hold onto Brian's shirt sleeve.

"My assistant coordinated it," he explained. "She used a new decorator this year. I'm sure it was just an oversight," he soothed her as he plastered on a placating smile.

"Well, okay," she grumbled. "I'll excuse you this time, Honey, because I love your work so much. Just make sure you explain that to your Cynthia before next year, okay?" Brian nodded absentmindedly as the woman admitted, "Whoever it was did a beautiful job, though. It's just gorgeous. Do you think I could hire him or her, too, for MY party?"

Brian nodded again with an "uh, huh," as he glanced around the room, looking for said 'decorator.' He first peered down at the appetizer table, and then over at the bar with no luck. Finally, his eyes wandered over to the portable dance floor near the speaker's dais and his eyes darkened in quickly-simmering anger and something else he refused to acknowledge as he recognized his partner _dancing_ with his most promising advertising executive, Adam Sherman. "Excuse me, Golda," he told the woman as he shrugged out of her embrace. "I have something urgent to take care of." He didn't wait for the woman to reply as he firmly pushed his way through the quickly burgeoning crowd and headed down the row of steps toward the dance floor.

Brian's eyes narrowed in jealousy as he observed his employee holding Justin firmly around the waist while they danced; Justin's hands were lying on Adam's shoulders as they swayed in time to the music. _What the fuck_? he thought as his blood began to boil. Ignoring the outstretched hand of John Myerson as he passed by him, his eyes bored into the scene taking place from several feet away as he walked up behind Justin and eyed Sherman sternly, his jaw set and his eyes boring into his employee's.

"Brian...?" Adam began, but he was promptly cut off.

"I'm cutting in," was the terse declaration as he yanked them apart and twirled Justin around to face him. Adam's mouth hung open as he watched his boss slide his arms around his former dancing partner's waist and push their bodies together with no room in between; he watched in surprise and amazement as Justin automatically slid his arms up Brian's chest and his shoulders before linking them behind his boss's neck.

"You've been a very naughty boy, Sunshine," he heard Brian whisper huskily just before Justin smirked almost arrogantly and their lips came together for a deep, passionate kiss. Adam's eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets as the two men continued to kiss as if they did this all the time, oblivious to the other guests and employees staring at them so intently now.

From her place near the bar, Cynthia reached over and grabbed Ted's arm who was standing a few feet away from her, a newly-acquired seltzer water in his hand. "What?" he asked curiously.

She nodded her head toward the dance floor. "Looks like the cat's out of the bag - big time," she observed with a smile of approval. Ted followed her gaze down to the dance floor as his eyes widened in shock. "Holy shit," he murmured as the two men continued to kiss under the soft, recessed lighting while they ground their bodies together like two animals in heat. "They've forgotten where they are and they think they're at Babylon."

"Not exactly," Cynthia replied with a grin. "Someone apparently had the gall to ask Justin to dance, and evidently the lion felt a need to go down and stake his claim," she told him. "I wonder how long Sherman will last now?"

"That's who asked him to dance?"

Cynthia nodded, having observed Justin dancing with the other man a few minutes ago. Somehow she knew from the moment she saw them dancing together that Brian was about to change his _'don't ask, don't tell'_ policy. "Yeah. Good thing he's so good at what he does, too, or he would be boxing up his things tomorrow morning."

"You don't think he'll fire him?" Ted asked as he continued to observe the sensual spectacle still taking place down on the dance floor. He watched as Brian and Justin finally came up for air and a splattering of applause unexpectedly broke out. He could see Justin's face flushing in embarrassment as Brian merely smirked back at everyone in challenge.

"Probably not," Cynthia decided, knowing quite well her boss by now. "But something tells me a certain artist will be off limits from now on for Sherman's advertising campaigns," she said with a soft laugh, secretly delighted that it was all out in the open now. _About fucking time, Brian Kinney_, she thought to herself silently.

"Come on, Ted - let's go shake our booties, too," she said with a grin as Ted nodded, putting his drink down to take her hand and lead her down the steps toward the dance floor. By then, Brian and Justin had disappeared somehow, probably to continue their 'conversation.'

* * *

Brian firmly tugged Justin up the steps away from the dance floor to the sound of hoots and applause still ringing in both their ears as he steered him toward a public bathroom off to the side of the room. After discovering that thankfully no one was in there at the moment, he promptly turned around and flipped the deadbolt to lock it.

He turned back around with his hands on his hips to stare over at his partner a few feet away. Justin was leaning back against the beige, speckled, marbled wash vanity, his locked elbows supporting his upper body as he leaned back against it and stared back at him defiantly.

"What the hell do you think you were doing out there?" Brian demanded.

Justin huffed. "What did it _look_ like I was doing? It's called dancing. You should try it sometime," he quipped with an almost smug smile.

"You were dancing with another man."

Justin actually had the gall to laugh at that statement as a vein popped out on the side of Brian's neck in reaction; just saying the words made his blood boil. "Very astute of you. Yes, I believe that's what it's called. He asked me politely if I wanted to dance, and I politely accepted. I didn't see anyone _else_ offering," he pointed out as he stared over at Brian and lifted one eyebrow in challenge.

"Well, that doesn't really matter NOW, does it? You've blown our cover."

Justin laughed again. "Brian, we're not spies for the U.S Government. We're two queers who happen to work at the same place - and if I'm not mistaken, happen to love each other. What's wrong with everyone knowing that? Although, now that I think about it _I _wasn't telling anyone - if I recall, you just took care of that problem yourself." He beamed over at him, clearly proud of his achievement.

Brian slowly walked over to his lover until he was inches away and placed his own arms on either side of Justin's body to pin him in place against the vanity. Justin lifted his gaze to bore into Brian's as his partner's eyes slowly lowered to take in the full, plump lips that had suckled so many of his body parts countless times before, the same lips that were talking so impertinently back at him now. Justin's breath caught in his throat at the heated look on Brian's face, gasping as he purposely ground their cocks together. "Well, _Mr. Taylor_, it seems that we have _another_ problem that needs taken care of now. Are you up for that challenge as well?"

Before he even knew what was happening, Brian had grabbed Justin by the upper arms and twirled him around to face the vanity; he caught a quick look at the flushed, aroused expression on his face in the mirror as Brian roughly reached around and yanked his zipper down, unbuttoning the lone button in record time before he took his pants and briefs in his hands to pull them down to Justin's knees.

Justin could feel cold air circulating around his legs and cock, but it did nothing to lessen the heat he was feeling as he heard the tear of a condom wrapper and the sound of another zipper being undone; he closed his eyes in bliss as he felt Brian's lips nibbling at his neck and collar bone before he gasped at the sharp bite of Brian's teeth on his neck, marking him as his. Every time Brian insisted on playing 'caveman' like that, he got so turned on; just the thought of being 'his' made him horny as hell and distinctly proud that he was the one that Brian wanted to possess. He felt the heat of Brian's large hands grasping the sides of his waist as Christmas music continued to blare in the banquet room; it wasn't long afterward before he felt the initial burn as Brian's cock pressed halfway inside. It had been a couple of days since they had had sex, and he was tight as hell. But the lubricated condom helped ease the discomfort somewhat as he groaned in response. "Brian," he moaned out breathlessly as his lover withdrew slightly only to ram back in even farther.

His head lolled back onto Brian's shoulder like it was spineless as he held on tightly to the cold marble of the vanity's edge while Brian continued his in-and-out-thrusting, harder and harder until he almost felt like he was being torn apart.

"Don't you ever forget," Brian grunted, "that you are mine," he demanded gruffly as he held on tightly to Justin's waist for leverage and felt Justin pushing back to meet him, thrust for thrust. "Mine," he growled again. "Always mine." He picked up his pace, feeling Justin's release building as he clenched his anal muscles tightly around his cock. "That's it," he hissed out as his movements became more and more frantic. "I'm going to make you come so fucking hard."

Justin moaned loudly as his body went into overdrive. "Oh, Fuck!" he cried out, his vocal sounds echoing off the tiled walls of the multi-stalled bathroom as Brian relentlessly rammed in and out of him over and over again; all it took was for their eyes to meet in the reflection of the bathroom mirror several seconds later and Justin erupted with a loud yell as his seed spilled all over the vanity and onto the bathroom floor. Brian continued to piston in and out of his lover a few more times before he, too, stiffened and cried out in pleasure as his climax overtook him and he gushed into the condom.

The two remained splayed against each other, pinned against the vanity as they both tried hard to regain their breath; after several seconds, Brian reached up to softly feather Justin's sweaty hair at the crown on his head and bestow a few light kisses along his cheek and his neck before he reached down to grab the condom and throw in down into the sink basin.

"That...," he struggled to speak as they just lay still bent over the vanity, Brian's chest pressed against Justin's back. "Fuck...That was so damn hot," he finally managed to say as he rose up just enough to give Justin room to stand up straighter. He took Justin by the upper arms to turn him around as they stared into each other's eyes. Justin's sweater was mussed up and wrinkled from their frantic lovemaking, his hair was sticking up in all directions, and his face was flushed from exertion, but it just made Brian want to fuck the living daylights out of him even more. "Shit, Justin," he murmured as he reached over to grab some towels folded and lying on top of the vanity. He managed to turn on the closest spigot and wet the towels before he gently began to clean Justin off as best he could. Reaching down to pull his lover's pants back up and zip them, he commented dryly, "I think we just managed to fuck up your nice little outfit."

Justin smiled almost dreamily back at him. "I think I'll live," he replied. "They'll just think I got lucky and managed to fuck the boss."

Brian snorted as he straightened Justin's sweater as best he could. "I think I already disproved that theory, Sunshine, when we sucked face on the dance floor."

"Oh, yeah, we did, didn't we?" Justin responded with a satisfied grin. "I guess there's no going back now," he told him.

Brian shook his head, one side of his mouth quirking up in agreement. "No," he agreed with unexpected softness as he reached up to cup the side of Justin's face, his heart fluttering erratically in his chest. This feeling he had for Justin - this deep emotion that threatened to almost overwhelm him - frightened the shit out of him in its intensity, but also made him feel unexpectedly complete. Was this passionate, amazing, creative man destined to be his soulmate? He supposed if he ever allowed himself to believe in one, Justin would come the closest to fulfilling that role. "No getting that genie back in the bottle now."

Justin smiled in happiness as Brian rolled his eyes at the radiant look on his face. He sometimes forgot how little it sometimes took to make Justin happy; he would have to remember that in the future.

As the strains of some sappy, romantic Christmas song began to play, Brian took Justin by the wrist to pull him forward. "Come on, Christmas Decorator; let's go show Sherlock how it's really done."

Justin chuffed. "_Sherman_," he replied as Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek and grinned over at him boyishly. He huffed out an exasperated breath. "She told you; I didn't want you to know."

Brian snorted. "She knows which side her bread is buttered on," he quipped. He stopped for a second as he told him softly, "By the way, it's fucking incredible what you did out there; everyone's raving about it."

Justin blushed at the compliment as Brian continued to pull him toward the door.

"Wait!" Justin pleaded as he reached over just far enough to pull a sprig of mistletoe out of a Christmas florist display in a squat, green vase. Brian shook his head at him as he shrugged. "Well, just in case..." He held it up above Brian's head just before his partner swooped down and soundly obeyed tradition, giving him a tongue-fucking that seemed to go on forever and forever.

As they finally came up for air, Brian quipped, "Satisfied?"

Justin nodded, his lips distinctly swollen from Brian's onslaught. "It was..._okay_," he murmured with a shrug before breaking out into a giggling fit.

"Come on!" Brian told him gruffly, mock insulted by the half-compliment. "I have a shitload of clients I need to suck up to before I can suck up to YOU later. And...I have a lot of introductions to make."

Justin frowned as Brian moved to unlock the door. "I thought you knew everyone who came to these dinners," he pointed out.

"I do," Brian confirmed as he peered over at him. "But they don't know _my partner_."

Justin's face glowed with happiness as Brian whispered, "Merry Christmas."

* * *

_A/N: I want to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Thank you for all the support you've given me. I hope that I can continue to write stories that you will enjoy.:) Thank you, also, to my beta, Gloria.:)_


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